


At Last

by jesileigh



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Emotions, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Kissing, Spec, all the feels, season 7 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesileigh/pseuds/jesileigh
Summary: He hadn’t really even noticed there was a change in Felicity until the chaos died down, and even then it took him a couple of weeks to look past the excuses and the way she brushed off his attempts to talk. When he kissed her she pulled away almost immediately. When he reached for her hands she found a way to keep them busy. When he’d make his way to their bed at night, she would make an excuse to stay up and every morning when he woke up she was already gone from beside him. He told himself they were both readjusting. Things needed time to settle. They’d both been through so much.





	At Last

The first few weeks after the presidential pardon were a whirlwind of sorts. The moment John and Lyla appeared in the visitation room with the paper granting his freedom in hand, Oliver had bolted for Hope Springs, the small town where his wife and son had been hidden away for the past six months. He arrived near midnight at the little corner cafe, well past closing time. He stood outside for a long moment, hands in his pockets, just watching her through the storefront window. The lights were dimmed, but his eyes followed her as she flitted around the dining area stacking chairs and wiping down the last of the tables. When he finally worked up the nerve and opened the door, the bell jingled and Felicity didn’t even look up from counting the register before she’d declared, irritated, that they were closed and he would have to return tomorrow morning if he wanted something.

He couldn’t say a word except her name; the syllables dangling in the air between them in a way that said so many things he would have needed hours to say otherwise. 

“ _ Felicity. _ ” He could see the way she stiffened, her spine straightening instantly and her head rising from where she had been hunched over the till, counting out coins one at a time. A name nobody had called her in months while she was in hiding. She turned around slowly as though she could not dare to believe her ears. When her gaze landed on him her eyes widened almost comically but she stood still, frozen in place behind the counter. 

“ _ Oliver _ ?” 

It was a question, not a declaration. She searched his face and then closed her eyes tightly before opening them again, like she was certain she was hallucinating him. “Oh my God... _ Oliver _ .” This time she choked out his name on a sob, abandoning the register and the cash on the counter to come around to his side. She stopped just short of him, hesitating, but he couldn’t help himself. He could not wait a second longer to have her in his arms, not when she was so close after so long. Without a word, he closed the gap between them, scooping her up and burying his face in her neck. He breathed her in, reveling in her scent and warmth without noticing that he was crying until he felt his own tears on her skin, mingling with hers as they held onto each other for dear life.

Life became a blur of moving back to Star City and trying to settle back into a normal routine again while also aiding ARGUS and the FBI in finally capturing Diaz and his crew and putting them away. He hadn’t really even noticed there was a change in Felicity until the chaos died down, and even then it took him a couple of weeks to look past the excuses and the way she brushed off his attempts to talk. When he kissed her she pulled away almost immediately. When he reached for her hands she found a way to keep them busy. When he’d make his way to their bed at night, she would make an excuse to stay up and every morning when he woke up she was already gone from beside him. He told himself they were both readjusting. Things needed time to settle. They’d both been through so much.

 

“Dad, are you and Felicity getting a divorce?” William asks one night after dinner, finally forcing him to confront reality. Oliver’s almost visceral reaction to the question does not go unnoticed by his son, who jumps in to explain his thoughts. “I just...I’ve noticed she hasn’t been home much, is all. She’s been staying at her old apartment a lot lately and--”

“She’s just working. She’s trying to get the company off the ground. A lot goes into starting a business, Will,” Oliver explains. The skepticism in William’s eyes is enough for Oliver to change the subject before he can ask any further questions. “Why don’t you get your homework done and get ready for bed? I’m just going to take the rest of this chicken over to the loft and make sure Felicity eats tonight. Something tells me her diet has consisted of potato chips and energy drinks for a couple of days,” he adds, plastering on a smile to hide his growing unease. His forced tone does nothing to convince William, apparently, but the boy just nods and clears his dishes from the table before retreating to his room. Oliver takes his time loading the dishwasher and putting Felicity’s dinner into a tupperware for her before he pulls on a jacket and heads over to the loft. 

The walk to their old apartment is short, but the air is starting to bite as they near the end of November. Normally he’d be quick to reach her, but tonight he’s lost in the neverending torture chamber of his own mind, his thoughts swirling faster and faster as he nears his destination. He is so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn’t even realize his feet have carried him to her door until he’s knocking on it and he comes back to himself just in time for the door to swing open, a disheveled, barefooted Felicity on the other side. 

“Oh!” she squeaks and her eyes go wide as though she’s surprised to see him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoes, offering her a nervous smile. “I thought you might be hungry.” He lifts the tupperware to show her and she nods eagerly.

“Starving, actually. Thanks.” She steps back from the doorway so he can enter the apartment and he follows her into the kitchen, hovering near the counter covered in gears and wires and gadgets as she pulls out one of the barstools for him to sit on. 

“You, uh...you haven’t been home in a bit. I just thought I should come and check on you,” he says in what he hopes is a nonchalant tone as he takes a seat on one of the barstools. Felicity waves a hand in the air as she spoons some mashed potatoes onto the lone plate in the cabinet. 

“Well you know how I get when I’m on a roll -it’s hard to stop when I’m finally making progress. I didn’t have a moment to breathe, let alone work on this stuff while we were in Hope Springs. I was so focused on working to make sure we could cover the bills and put something other than mac and cheese and hotdogs on the table every night, ” she explains, putting her plate in the microwave and setting it for two minutes. “It’s nice to finally be able to focus all of my energy on something I really love doing. I missed it.”

“You getting a lot done?” Oliver asks and Felicity nods.

“I almost have the website ready to launch and I finished the coding on three new apps this week. I just have to do some debugging and check for glitches before I can release them to the public. That should only take me another few hours though.” 

Oliver nods a bit, biting the inside of his cheek as he turns over the words he wants to say in his head. 

“William mentioned that he misses you tonight,” he tells her. “We both do,” he adds as an afterthought. Felicity gives a weak smile at that.

“I figured the two of you could use some guy time. Besides, I haven’t been away that long, have I?” she asks.

“It has been three days since you’ve been home,” Oliver says. 

“Has it?” Felicity asks, looking a bit surprised. He nods. “Huh. I guess I lost track of time. I’ve been catching a few hours of sleep upstairs when I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I didn’t mean to go M.I.A. on you.”

“Are you sure?” The words are out before he can stop himself and Felicity raises an eyebrow at him in response. 

“Am I sure about what? I’m not... _ avoiding _ you, if that’s what you mean.” He senses a bit of irritation and defensiveness in her tone and he takes a moment to rethink his approach.

“No, I’m sure you’re not intentionally staying away. It’s just…” He trails off for a second, Felicity’s eyes fixed on him. “You have been kind of distant lately. I’m just wondering if...if everything is okay, you know?”

“I’m fine,” Felicity insists quickly. “Just busy with all of this. Trying to readjust, you know?” She shrugs her shoulders and turns back to take her food out of the microwave, placing the plate on the counter in front of her. She picks at the chicken with her fork, avoiding his gaze.

“I meant with us,” Oliver finally adds, his throat tightening a bit on the last word. It’s subtle, the way her hand falters and the fork tines clatter against the plate before she catches herself. But it tells him enough.   
He doesn’t wait for her try to explain it away. “I understand completely if you’re angry with me. What I did--turning myself in like that without talking to you about it? It was unforgivable. Especially because of...what happened before.” Oliver watches as Felicity shifts uncomfortably on the other side of the counter, moving her weight from one foot to the other and back again as she fiddles nervously with the loose strands of hair that have escaped the messy bun on top of her head. “We haven’t really talked about it since I got back,” he adds. “But I want you to know that I do know how much I messed things up. You know...you said to me when you gave me my mother’s ring back that someday I would keep things from you again and I-I can’t tell you I’m sorry because I know it means nothing coming from me now but I--”

“Oliver, can we just...please not do this right now?” Felicity says, her voice cracking, gaze still trained on her fork as she pokes and prods her vegetables.

“If not now, when?” he asks. “You already have this wall up--it’s been there since I came home and it’s just getting higher and higher. You’ve been staying at your old apartment, you pull away when I try to kiss you...I just think it would do you some good to tell me how you--”

“You do  _ not _ get to tell me how I should or shouldn’t handle this,” Felicity snaps. “I had to keep it together for  _ months _ for William’s sake. I didn’t have time to grieve. I was kept from my friends and my family and my  _ life _ and I had  _ no _ say in the matter. I had to learn how to be a single mom, isolated from anybody who might have helped me and so yes, maybe I used some of my old defense mechanisms while you were gone. And yes, now you’re home and things should be back to normal and I don’t  _ want _ to keep thinking about what happened six months ago. I want to just be  _ normal _ again, okay?” The words come out of her in a rush, her voice shaky and spiraling quickly out of control like the dam has finally broken under the strain of keeping it all in.  

“So how long do we ignore this?” he implores her, his desperation rising. “Felicity, I had fully resigned myself to the idea that I was going to come home to divorce papers if they weren’t delivered to me while I was in there,” he admits, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “So the fact that you’re even willing to pretend we’re okay is more than I deserve, but I just...we can’t pretend forever. One day it’s going to be too much and then what?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpers, biting her lower lip in the way she always did when she was fighting back tears. He doesn’t say anything in response; doesn’t push her to go on. But eventually she finally speaks up again.   
“You left.” It’s an accusation, her voice heavy with betrayal and hurt that make his chest ache in response. “When my dad left, I spent so many years trying to understand what was so wrong with me that the person who was supposed to love me more than anything could leave me. How was I so broken? What did I do wrong?” Felicity stops for a second to angrily wipe away a tear with the back of her hand before she presses on. “And then after everything that happened with us I just...I felt so _stupid_ when you did it _again_. You did it after the Undertaking and after I got shot. Like...I’m supposed to be a certified genius so why do I keep falling for this? You know? Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, or thrice I guess, in this particular situation, and….” Her tears rise to the surface and she shakes her head as if trying to clear it. 

“I spent the first month trying not to cry every five minutes. I spent the second month hating myself for being so stupid. And then after that it was just...do what I had to do to survive and keep going for William. I don’t know what I would have done without him.” She smiles sadly. “So when you got home I was relieved. I was so  _ happy _ . But those feelings from before didn’t go away. I tried to push them down and make myself move on because you’re  _ home _ and we can be a family again and move on with our lives and--”

“You shouldn’t have to move on from that, Felicity,” Oliver says. “You have every right to hate me for what I did.”

“I don’t hate you, Oliver,” she says, exasperated, finally looking up to catch his eye. “I just think the thing that hurt the most was...I told you that my greatest fear in life was losing you. And you  _ chose _ to leave. Even after everything--”

“Felicity-” He tries to interject, but she holds up a hand.

“I know why you did it,” she continues. “And I know that you would do anything, no matter what, to keep the people you love from getting hurt. Even if sometimes that leads to some really,  _ really _ crappy choices on your part.” Oliver can’t help but huff out a laugh at that. “If I hadn’t already come to terms with that I wouldn’t have married you in the first place.”

Oliver feels his heart skip a beat at her reassurance and when she looks up to catch his eye he can feel his throat close up with emotion. 

“I promised myself you wouldn’t regret that,” he tells her. It’s hard, being this vulnerable, but it also feels good finally saying it aloud. Felicity’s brow furrows as she tries to understand his meaning and she tilts her head.

“Regret what?”

“Marrying me,” he says. “I know you were hesitant and I get why -I mean, I wasn’t exactly-” she cuts him off before he can continue.

“I could  _ never _ regret you.” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, but it’s raw and forceful, like she is appalled at the very idea. “I don’t...where did that even come from?” Oliver’s gaze falls, his eyes on the concrete floor beneath his feet and he gives the slightest shrug. He doesn’t hear her move, but suddenly she’s on his side of the counter with her hands in his. Not for the first time he marvels at how tiny she is next to him. So delicate on the surface, but so strong underneath it all.  _ So  _ strong. “Hey,” she prompts him, her voice gentle and brimming with the worry he knows he’ll see written all over her face when he finally looks at her. 

“We’ve done this so many times, Oliver.” She sighs. “What’s it going to take for you to believe you deserve to be loved? That you deserve to be  _ happy _ ?” she says in the same desperate tone he recognizes from his own voice. One of her hands rests against his cheek. Her thumb caresses his jaw and she pushes herself up to her toes to press her lips to his forehead causing his eyes to flutter closed as he revels in the pure comfort and love she radiates as he tilts his head up slightly. “I love you,” she murmurs, her lips still lingering where she’d kissed him. “I can be really, really mad at you and still love you, you know that, right?” 

He smiles a bit at the way she’s teasing him and he swallows the lump in his throat before he looks up at her and nods.

“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly. She smiles a soft smile and moves her lips to meet his. It’s chaste and sweet and he appreciates the way she knows exactly how to calm him and bring him back from the brink of a spiral. 

“Good. Because yes, I am still pissed. But I still love you with everything in me. And that is never going to change.”

“I love you too,” he says, his moving to embrace her, confident now that she won’t reject him. He’s glad to find that he was right as she sinks into him, and something inside of him settles at the feeling of her in his arms again. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers against her ear. “I know it doesn’t mean much after everything I’ve put you through, but….” His voice fades. 

“Then show me,” Felicity says. “Don’t tell me.” He squeezes her even more tightly, holding onto her as though he’s still scared she might walk away. 

“I promise,” he tells her. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you if I have to. I just need you to know that I understand and I’m not going to mess this up again.” 

He knows how scared and desperate he sounds, like he’s pleading her to believe him. He’s not even sure he believes himself. After all, he knows that self-sabotage is his greatest superpower. But Felicity cards her fingers through his hair and gently peppers light kisses over the side of his neck where she’s nestled and he realizes that as long as she believes in him, he can manage to believe in himself. If guilt and destruction are his superpower, hers has always been her ability to see the best in people, even when they can’t see it themselves. And he’s never been more grateful for her.

“Thank you for dinner,” she says after a long moment. “And for forcing me to talk. Maybe I was avoiding you because I was trying to avoid this conversation, but I think we’re better now.” 

“Yeah,” he says, bracing himself for the moment she pulls away. She doesn’t. Instead she hoists herself up so she can sit on his lap, her arms still entwined around his neck and his around her waist keeping her steady. He turns his head so they are nose to nose, breathing each other in. It feels intimate in a way they haven’t been in so, so long. “Come home?” he whispers, the longing in his voice palpable. She nods, slowly leaning in again to press her lips to his. But this time...this time there is undeniable heat and intention behind her kiss as her mouth slides open and he moans in relief at the feeling of her lips against his. 

In one swift movement he stands from the barstool and her legs wrap instinctively around his waist. It’s a practiced move; something they’ve done so many times, but it feels anything but familiar as they relearn and rediscover each other.

It’s not as though they hadn’t had sex since he’d come home, but Oliver certainly wouldn’t have classified it as making love. No, each and every time they had been together since his return was primal--no foreplay, and accented with an underlying tension that he finally understands now that Felicity had voiced the anger and frustration she’d been feeling all these weeks. She hadn’t fully given herself over to him-- part of her had been holding back, afraid to let down her guard and let him back in. Afraid that she might lose him all over again. That’s what had been missing. What had been making him feel so off-kilter with her. 

But now? She isn’t holding back at all as she kisses him with every ounce of love and passion she can muster. Her fingers grasp at the strands of his hair and he suddenly hates himself for getting it cut so short. They laugh into each other’s mouths when she can’t get a decent grip and it feels incredible and freeing like the wall between them has finally crumbled. At last they’ve found each other again. At last he feels the heavy weight lift from his shoulders as he stumbles through the loft toward the stairs. At last he is  _ home _ .

With one arm banded around her waist to keep her pressed against him and the other on the railing he ascends the stairs to their old bedroom. He can’t keep the smile off of his face, which makes kissing her a little more difficult than usual, but it’s so worth it. 

“Love you,” Felicity says between kisses. “Love you so much.” Oliver huffs out another laugh as the backs of his knees find the edge of the bed and they go tumbling backwards onto the duvet, Felicity straddling his lap. He lets out a moan as her hips begin to rock against him, his pants tightening.

“I love you,” he replies when she pulls back to lift her t-shirt over her head, throwing it behind her, quickly followed by her bra before she grasps the bottom of his shirt next. He sits up enough for her to pull it off of him and then rolls them so she’s beneath him, settling between her thighs and reveling in the sigh she makes when his hardness presses against her.

He rolls his hips as he captures her mouth again, his teeth pulling on her bottom lip, and she cries out at the friction he offers.

“Oliver, please,” she mutters. “Need you.  _ Now _ .” He nods and stands up just long enough for both of them to kick off the rest of their clothes before he’s climbing back onto the bed, hovering over her and leaving a trail of kisses from one hip to the other and then up her abdomen before pausing to catch her eye. 

They both seem to hold their breath as they take each other in. Her lips are red and swollen from his kisses, her cheeks a delightfully rosy pink that spreads down her neck and chest. She’s so beautiful, his wife. So stunning, especially like this, and he can’t keep himself from kissing her until they are both gasping for breath all over again. 

They make love for hours that night, clinging to each other and filling the darkness of the room with their gasps and cries. Not until well into the early morning hours do they collapse into a sweaty, satiated heap and curl into each other to let sleep claim them for awhile. For the first time since he returned home that Oliver actually sleeps, his heart full and his limbs heavy as he wraps himself around her and drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in almost a year. 

The warmth of the sun is what wakes him and he slowly opens his eyes and takes in the vision before him. His wife is still asleep with her head resting on his arm and her untamed curls everywhere so he can’t even move to see what time it is. Instead he enjoys the moment, counting her freckles, smiling at the little snore that escapes her and the way her cold feet inevitably find his, seeking out his warmth the way he can’t help but intertwine them with hers. 

He makes it to 43 of the 52 freckles he remembers from before he left when he sees her crack a smile.

“Are you watching me sleep?” she mumbles, her voice heavy. He responds by kissing the tip of her nose, then her lips. 

“Maybe.”

“So creepy,” she says, smirking and opening one eye to look at him. 

“I should probably get home before William wakes up.” Oliver sighs, laughing at the pout Felicity return. 

“Ugh, parenting...I guess you’re probably right,” she agrees, but she makes no move to let him up from the bed. Instead she snuggles in closer, nuzzling his neck with her nose.

“You could come with me?” he suggests.

“I have a conference call with an investor this morning,” she says. 

“Dinner then?” he asks hopefully, anxiety settling in his stomach as he waits for her response. Last night was a start, but he knows he has a long way to go to make amends.

“Okay,” she agrees, stifling a yawn. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Promise?” he says. She smiles cheekily up at him.

“Promise.” She rolls over a bit, stretching out her arms above her head and giving him the space he needs to sit up and climb out of the bed. “Enjoy your walk of shame, Mr. Mayor,” she adds with a wink as he pulls on his pants. 

“It’s not a walk of shame when you’re married. And also, I’m not the mayor anymore,” he reminds her. She waves a hand in his direction.

“Eh, they’ll come around,” she says. He shakes his head at her and leans down to press a kiss to her head. She hums in appreciation.

“I’ll see you in a few hours?” he asks.

“Promise,” she reiterates, giving him an almost shy smile.

“I love you,” Oliver says, and he feels like he could say it a thousand times a day and it wouldn’t be nearly enough. 

“I love you too.” She reaches out to run her fingers down his arm.   
It takes all he has to leave her behind and go home, but it’s nearly seven and William will be up any moment to get ready for school. _Thank God for Raisa_ , he thinks to himself as he pulls on his coat and slips on his shoes. He grins as he watches Felicity roll over on her side and fall back to sleep, taking one moment longer to appreciate her. 

She’s home for dinner that night as promised (a pizza margherita recipe they had eaten once in Positano), and Oliver feels like the luckiest man in the world as he and his wife and son watch a movie and laugh together after dinner. They’re a bit wrapped up in each other to notice the way William just sits back and studies them at first, like he isn’t ready to accept that his family is whole again, but eventually he settles. He even tells them in exasperation to _get a room_ at one point when Felicity’s kisses linger a bit longer than necessary as she helps Oliver tidy up the kitchen.    
The Queen-Smoak-Clayton family may not always have it easy, and Oliver has always had his doubts that he deserves this kind of life. Doubts that a life like this was even possible for someone like him. But with the love of his wife and his son behind him, at last he’s starting to believe. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The hugest thanks to Meg and Bre for helping me refine and polish this one. Love you both bunches!


End file.
